


here comes the rush before we touch

by forgiveness_in_eurydice



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Autistic Cody Walsh, First Kiss, He/They Pronouns For Cody Walsh, Healing wounds, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28422201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgiveness_in_eurydice/pseuds/forgiveness_in_eurydice
Summary: Pete is injured. Cody is smitten. What could go wrong?
Relationships: Pete the Plug/Cody “Night Angel” Walsh
Comments: 3
Kudos: 91





	here comes the rush before we touch

**Author's Note:**

> \- Title from "Closer" by Tegan and Sara  
> \- There are some descriptions of cuts/blood due to magical injuries (nothing graphic at all, though)  
> \- I’ve never played a paladin so my understanding of how lay on hands works is tenuous at best. I also can’t remember if Cody has ever actually used it but it’s for the plot  
> \- It’s not stated but I very intentionally wrote Cody as autistic bc I’m autistic and so is he bc I say so <3

When Cody first got involved with all this magic business, he didn’t really stop to think about the logistics of it. Which, he supposes, is pretty in character. He was so excited about the prospect of magic, of Lucifer, of saving the mall, that it didn’t really occur to him that this shit is _dangerous_. Well, technically it _did_ occur to him, and he kind of thought it was awesome. But danger isn’t as fun in actual practice as it is in theory, and Cody failed to account for the sheer amount of _pain_ that comes with fighting evil. Between all the cuts, bruises, broken bones, and occasional life-threatening devil attack, Cody’s been in more physical pain over the past month than he has…maybe ever. It’s bearable, mostly—between him, Kingston, and Ricky, they usually all get healed up pretty quickly—but it’s _annoying._ It sucks to be in pain, and it sucks to see the people he’s come to care about in pain. And right now, it sucks to be limping through the front door, Pete close behind him, after a fight with a particularly nasty pack of possessed birds. The worst of their injuries have been healed, but they’re both scratched all to hell, and Pete in particular has a pretty bad cut on his face. Cody still doesn’t exactly know how to tell how much magic he’s used up—that’s one of the many things he’s been told will become more intuitive over time—but he’s pretty sure he has a little bit of healing left. Which, thank god, because otherwise Pete would probably need stitches, and Nasir is already starting to ask questions.

“Are you all right?” Cody asks, once the two of them have made their way up to the attic and are now perched on Pete’s bed, facing each other.

“Yeah, I think so,” Pete says, wincing slightly as he pokes at the gash on his cheek. “Ow. Fuck.”

“Dude, don’t fuckin’ touch it,” Cody says. “It can, like, get infected or whatever. Aren’t you supposed to be the smart one out of the two of us?” Pete’s eyes widen, and he laughs a little.

“What?” Cody asks, wincing at the defensive tone that creeps into his voice. He knows Pete probably isn’t laughing _at_ him, but he’s been laughed at enough times that sometimes it’s hard to keep from going on high alert. And the idea of Pete laughing at him feels way worse than other people laughing at him, and Cody kind of wishes he didn’t know why.

“Nothing,” Pete replies. “It’s just…I don’t know, I’m not really used to anyone calling me smart.”

“You _are_ smart,” Cody mumbles, not looking at Pete. Pete scoffs, a little nervously, as though he doesn’t think Cody means it. He _does_ mean it, though—Pete is smart as hell, even if he’s also kind of a dumbass sometimes. He’s also funny, and charming, and he’s maybe a bit rough around the edges, but he’s also deeply kind. Kind to _Cody,_ which Cody is…not exactly used to. Pete is patient with him, and calls him Night Angel, and didn’t blink an eye when Cody told him he sometimes uses they/them pronouns in addition to he/him. Pete is the only person who’s ever managed to seamlessly transition between names and pronouns when talking about Cody, and it’s…nice. Cody might not be the most self-aware person in the world, but he knows he’s abrasive and weird and difficult to be around (mostly because people have told him). And to have people actually care about him and enjoy his presence is always a nice change of pace. Especially when it’s someone he maybe—okay, definitely—has a bit of a crush on. Cody kind of has a history of falling for people who are…not _horrible_ or anything, but also not the nicest, and it feels good to have feelings for someone who is kind to him and doesn’t treat him like a freak. Which is truly a pathetically low bar, but, well, you have to start somewhere.

“Do you think you have any healing left?” Pete asks, and Cody blinks, realizing that they have, not for the first time, gotten distracted staring at Pete instead of doing what they’re supposed to be doing—which, in this case, is healing the bird-inflicted wounds that Pete has suffered.

“Uh, yeah, I think so,” Cody says. “I’ll get your face, it kinda looks fuckin’ bad.”

“Yeah, it doesn’t feel great,” Pete says, grimacing a little. He reaches up to touch his face again, then seems to stop himself and lowers his hand.

“Um, can I…” Cody says, gesturing awkwardly towards Pete’s face.

“Yeah, go for it,” Pete says, and moves a little closer so Cody can reach him easily. Cody lifts their hand slowly, suddenly very aware of the whole physical contact aspect of this whole thing. Which— _duh_ , Cody is already well aware that they can’t heal people without touching them (which is kind of bullshit, if you ask them, because it’d be pretty fucking sick to heal someone from fifty feet away while swinging at a monster with a sword, but whatever). It’s just… _Pete_. It’s not that Cody doesn’t _want_ to touch him—they do, they _absolutely_ do—but it makes them nervous, as stupid as it is. But Pete is hurt, and Cody knows that matters more than their dumbass crush, so they take a deep breath and place their hand on Pete’s cheek, right next to the cut. There’s nothing romantic about it whatsoever, but Cody still feels a tiny jolt of excitement at the contact. They look pointedly at their own hand instead of daring to look Pete in the eye, and after a moment their fingers glow with a faint, dull-silver light. (Cody is still a little disappointed that their magic doesn’t take the physical form of, like, spiderwebs or something cool, but it _is_ markedly different from the white-gold glow of Ricky or Kingston’s magic, and they suppose the difference is kind of cool in itself.) It’s not until the blood stops and the wound begins to heal that Cody processes that Pete’s skin is flushed and warm and realizes that he’s blushing. Which— _fuck_ —makes Cody blush too. To be fair, they’re pretty sure they were already blushing, but now they _definitely_ are, and there’s also blood on their fingers, which is kind of gross, and now they’ve definitely been touching Pete’s face for longer than necessary. They pull their hand away quickly, their face growing even warmer. Cody glances over at Pete, who is smiling a little, and yeah, he’s definitely blushing. Which, logically speaking, should mean _something_. But it could also just mean that the whole situation is kind of awkward, and the idea of trying to decipher what it actually means is excruciating. Cody isn’t good with subtlety, and half the time they just want to tell Pete how they feel and get it over with so they don’t have to keep overanalyzing subtext they don’t understand. But it feels somehow important to be careful about this, to not mess it up. So for weeks now, they’ve been keeping their mouth shut, despite all their instincts to the contrary. 

“Thanks,” Pete says, his face still pink. He snaps his fingers, and the blood disappears both from his face and from Cody’s hand. 

“Um, yeah, no problem,” Cody says, still not quite able to make eye contact. “Are you, like, hurt anywhere else? Badly enough to need healing, I mean.”

“Um, maybe? If you have any left?” Pete hesitates for a moment, then lifts up the hem of his shirt to reveal another deep cut on his hipbone. Cody swallows hard. It’s bad, maybe even worse than the one on his face. It definitely needs to be dealt with, and, because apparently the universe hates them, that’s going to involve putting their hand directly on Pete’s hip.

“I mean,” Pete says quickly, “you don’t have to if—”

“No, yeah, of course,” Cody says quickly. “I think I can do a little more, and that looks really bad.”

“Thanks,” Pete says with a small, awkward smile. He hitches his shirt up further and turns towards Cody a little, and this time Cody barely hesitates, because they know if they hesitate they might lose the nerve to do it at all. Their fingers curl around Pete’s waist, right above the cut, and there’s something so stupidly fucking _intimate_ about it that Cody wouldn’t be surprised if they passed out. Their plan is to finish the healing as quickly as possible and then leave the room before they combust. But now they’re so distracted and flustered that it’s suddenly really goddamn hard to harness the last bit of leftover magic that they _know_ is in there, if they can just fucking _focus._

“You good?” Pete asks after a moment. _Shit_.

“Yeah, no, I’m fine,” Cody says. They close their eyes, trying once again to concentrate, but their brain seems to be hellbent on short-circuiting. “Fuck. Sorry. I’ll get it, I will. I’m just, um…” Cody pauses, unsure of how exactly to finish that sentence. _Incredibly attracted to you? Unable to stop thinking about kissing you? Infuriated because you’re making me act like a middle schooler with a crush?_ They shake their head and try again. “This is just a little…” They stop again, once again not sure what to say.

“Homoerotic?” Pete supplies, and Cody’s head snaps up to meet his gaze. He’s smirking, but his face is bright red and he looks almost as flustered as Cody feels.

“Um. Yeah,” Cody replies sheepishly.

“Sorry,” Pete says suddenly, shaking his head a little. “I mean…sorry if that was, like, a weird thing to say.”

“No, it’s fine,” Cody says, both meaning it completely and simultaneously lying through their teeth. “You’re right.” It’s true—it _is_ homoerotic, almost comically so, and Cody would probably think it was hilarious if it wasn’t so excruciating. They fall into silence again as Cody tries desperately to push through the idiotic gay fog that is currently crowding their brain, because goddammit, Pete is _hurt_ and he _needs_ them. Cody closes their eyes, picturing Pete and their other friends in battle, injured, crying out for help, and _finally_ they feel the hum of their last bit of magic surging through their fingertips. When the wound is healed, Cody pulls away, their face still burning, and Pete prestidigitates the blood away again.

“Thanks,” Pete says, a small smile on his face. He looks…embarrassed, maybe? Similar to how he looked a few moments ago, but not quite the same. Cody isn’t always great at reading faces, but there’s definitely still _something_ in Pete’s expression.

“No problem,” Cody mumbles. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Pete replies. Then, after a moment, he adds, “What about you? Are you okay?”

“Oh. Um. Yeah, no, I’m fine. I’m not really hurt, just kind of scratched up.”

“No, um,” Pete says slowly, “I mean…are you doing all right? With, you know, all of this? It’s just…I know this shit can be super overwhelming.” Cody looks downward, at their hands in their lap, and curses Pete for being so damn _nice_ and messing up their plan to get the fuck out of here before they can do something stupid. They have every intention of saying they’re fine and leaving, but somehow instead they end up saying, quietly, “I don’t know. I mean, I’m fine. But it’s…I…my entire body hurts all the fucking time. And on the one hand it’s kind of cool, because, like, battle scars or whatever, but on the other hand it fucking sucks.”

“Oh god, yeah,” Pete says, wincing sympathetically. “That gets better, I promise. Your body gets used to it.”

“And it kinda sucks keeping it a secret,” Cody says, suddenly weirdly desperate to share everything they haven’t talked about yet. “Like, I have these cool-ass powers now, you know? I’m the fuckin’ _Jersey Devil._ That’s _so_ sick. And I can’t tell anyone. I mean, except you guys. But, like, Josh is my best friend, and I’m just supposed to…not tell him that I can fuckin’ control demons now? It’s…I don’t know, it’s kinda lonely.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Pete says slowly. “I mean, I don’t _really_ , because my life was honestly a lot lonelier before I got involved with this stuff, but it makes sense. And…fuck, I don’t know. I wish I had an answer, or a way to make it better. But, like, it _does_ get easier. And I know it sounds really stupid and cliched, but you’re not alone, you know? We’ve all been through this, and we’re here for you.” Pete grimaces slightly, seemingly at his own words, and Cody understands why—it _is_ cliched—but what he’s saying resonates more than Cody expected it to. It actually kind of makes him feel better, although whether that’s because of what Pete is actually saying or because of Cody’s crush is anyone’s guess.

“Thanks, man,” Cody says with a small smile. He doesn’t usually like smiling, at least not in front of people, but it feels right. He hopes it comes across as genuine, because it is. Pete smiles back, and Cody thinks his heart might actually burst out of his chest like one of those dumb cartoons.

“Um,” Pete says, “can I give you a hug?”

“Yeah,” Cody says, without even thinking. Like smiling, hugging is something he doesn’t always like very much, but right now it feels like the only thing to do.

Pete grins. “Cool.” He scoots closer to Cody, a little awkwardly, and wraps his arms around him. Cody is a little stiff at first, never really sure how to respond to being hugged, but he softens quickly and pulls Pete closer to him. The hug lasts for what might be longer than is strictly socially acceptable, Cody’s not really sure, but he can’t bring himself to care. He closes his eyes, breathing in the feeling of Pete pressed against him. And when they pull apart, they… _don’t_ , really. Cody’s arms are still wrapped loosely around Pete’s waist, and he can feel Pete’s hand at the back of his neck. Their faces are maybe six inches apart, and neither one of them seems inclined to move. Cody’s heart is pounding as he looks at Pete—at the scratches on his face, his messy hair, those _stupid_ fucking brown eyes. His eyes travel down to Cody’s mouth, then back up to his eyes, and Cody may not be the best with social cues but even he couldn’t miss that.

“Hey, Night Angel,” Pete breathes. His mouth is turned up into a small smile, and his grip on Cody’s neck tightens slightly, and that’s all the encouragement Cody needs to pull him closer and kiss him.

Pete, clearly not taken by surprise in the slightest, kisses back almost immediately, the hand that’s not on Cody’s neck coming up to cup his cheek. His lips are a little chapped, and he kisses Cody hard, almost urgently. Cody isn’t sure how long it is before they break apart, but it’s long enough that they’re both breathing just a little harder than normal. Pete is grinning, his thumb still gently rubbing Cody’s cheek.

“I like you,” Cody blurts suddenly, not even fully aware of what he’s saying until after he’s said it. “Like, romantically, or whatever. _Fuck_ , that’s probably really obvious since I just kissed you. Sorry.”

Pete’s smile widens. “No, hey, it’s good to make this shit as clear as possible,” he says. “I appreciate it. For real. And, um, I like you too.”

“Yeah?” Cody says, unable to stop a smile from creeping onto his face.

“Yeah.”

“That’s…that’s so fuckin’ sick, dude,” Cody says instinctively, then inwardly curses himself because seriously, what a dumb thing to say in this situation. But it doesn’t seem to matter, because Pete is laughing, his eyes full of affection, as he leans in to kiss Cody again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on twitter (@phantasmapopuli)!


End file.
